


Write Me a Few Lines

by Allekha



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Depression, Ficlet, Gen, Pre-Canon, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 14:10:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18874786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allekha/pseuds/Allekha
Summary: Yuuri never uses his secret Victor blog, until the time he gets drunk after his terrible appearance at Nationals and posts a detailed breakdown of one of Victor's programs. Writing them sober helps pull him out of his melancholy.





	Write Me a Few Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: '100 words of your OTP writing 100 words about each other'

Yuuri couldn't even remember why he had his secret Stumblr account anymore – maybe Phichit had talked him into it, maybe he'd just wanted to save cute pictures of dogs, maybe it was all of the Victor gifs. The reason he'd kept it had definitely been the Victor gifs.  
  
He didn't log into it often, but when he needed some motivation after a bad day, it was nice to go in and mindlessly browse; he liked endlessly rewatching Victor's jumps and body movements. Despite his inactivity, he even picked up a few followers who weren't spambots, after a couple of times when he went on a reblogging spree so he could save the good things later.  
  
Yuuri never posted anything new – he had no idea how to make gifs and no inclination to learn, and everyone else could re-post the same lovely photographs that he had seen, and anyway, he didn't have Phichit's interest in social media. (Phichit had active social media accounts on all the major websites, along with a secret Stumblr blog of his own about _The King and the Skater_. He posted essays about the films and answered questions from other fans about Thai culture. Sometimes Yuuri wondered how he had the time, but then, Phichit didn't stay up late playing video games when he couldn't sleep.)  
  
So he was surprised to wake up early in the afternoon after his most disastrous Nationals ever and check his phone to find not just a whole bunch of texts, alternately concerned and trying to cheer him up, but also a million notifications from Stumblr. Lots and lots of notifications about people liking or reblogging some post of his.  
  
Yuuri tried to remember what he might have posted, ever, and came up with nothing. Curious, and his head throbbing too much to want to get up yet (he'd tried drowning his sorrows last night, he could recall that), he poked at the notifications. After a few tries, it showed him what everyone was going crazy for, and, uh. Oh.  
  
He'd made a lot of weird and bad decisions while drunk. Writing a long blog post about one of his favorite Victor programs, and why it was so great on both a technical and performance level, was one of the weirder ones. There were even gifs. And a ton of typos – people had reblogged something like that?  
  
Yuuri rubbed his eyes and put his phone away. Celestino probably wanted to know he was alive.  
  
Back in Detroit, his season was over early for the first time in years – he'd always at least gone to some minor spring competition, even before he'd consistently started getting Four Continents and even Worlds, but he didn't have the heart for it this year. Nothing went right on the ice. He could tell Phichit was struggling to try and cheer him up when he was moping at home, and he was sure Celestino was disappointed in him. It sucked.  
  
Yuuri didn't watch Euros. He didn't open his folder of Victor videos. He didn't check Stumblr. Not until Phichit was off at Four Continents, and their place was too quiet, and he was tired of his own negativity.  
  
He opened up one of Victor's best performances and watched it three times in a row, pausing here to admire a soft gesture he made, there to daydream of doing a quad flip like his.  
  
Remembering that one post he'd made, he ended up writing down his thoughts to see if it would help, to see if the things the program inspired in him would stick better if put into words. It was kind of embarrassing, but fans did this all the time, didn't they? And nobody knew it was him. On the internet, he was just another Victor fan.  
  
He posted it, since he'd gone to all the effort (at least it was spellchecked this time), and got a few hours of sleep before practice. It seemed to have sort of worked, at least temporarily – he didn't fall as much when working on his jumps.  
  
Later, he did a couple more when he was on the way back to Japan to finish up at university, after he'd confirmed with Celestino that he was leaving. It was a way to keep himself focused, trying not to second-guess his own plans, occupying himself through all of the travel time. It helped prevent him from thinking so much about how he was graduating, how easy it would be to take his degree and get a real job that actually paid something. Skating made him feel something that he could never capture anywhere else. Here was the proof. No normal job would do that.  
  
While he'd turned most of the Stumblr notifications off, not wanting to deal with them, he got a new kind at one point that he must have forgotten to uncheck. Someone had mentioned his username in a comment on a post they'd reblogged, comparing someone else's program breakdown to the ones he'd posted.  
  
It was an analysis of one of _his_ programs. Detailed. Complimentary, overall, but the critique was mostly on-point. Someone knew what they were talking about. Yuuri scrolled through it, baffled that anyone would have bothered with someone like him when there were much better and more interesting skaters out there to write thousands of words on.  
  
Well, whatever. They seemed to be a fan of his, judging by their blog. Probably waiting to hear if he was skating next season, disappointed that he hadn't competed since December. Yuuri swallowed the tension in his throat - he was going to compete at least one more season, he'd already decided, he could do better than last year, end on a high note - and swiped away to go back to making plans to travel home. 


End file.
